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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516217">Eyes In The Dark Are Never A Dream</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhearse/pseuds/mrhearse'>mrhearse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Danger Days comic universe, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, and yes i changed cherri colas pronouns to they and there's nothing you can do about it, i don't want to give it away yet so i'm not gonna say anything else, this is my unholy alliance between killjoys and supernatural/monster au, untreated mental illness in general</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhearse/pseuds/mrhearse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Death has its own rules in the desert. No one is really, undoubtedly dead until you find the body.<br/>There have been a lot of bodies showing up lately. And they definitely did not die from gunshots. Guns don't have teeth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eyes In The Dark Are Never A Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Violence! Sunstroke! Eating bugs. And knowing that trusting people in the zones is dangerous business...<br/>Hello. I am trying to stop holding my writing so tightly to my chest, and I want to motivate myself to actually finish this story ;__; it's been a WIP for longer than I want to admit.<br/>I'm posting as much as I've written out cohesively rn, the rest is still super fragmented so I need to fill out some major holes. Maybe it will build some anticipation or something :3 hope u like!</p><p>(I realized that Ghoul is nowhere to be seen in this and I am so sorry... please be patient RIP I promise it will be worth it)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Death has its own rules in the desert. People go missing all the time. Everyone is presumed dead at some point, but no one is really dead until you find the body.</p><p> </p><p>Zoners going missing wasn't totally uncommon. Radio communication wasn't always the most effective, and if someone was travelling alone or far out in the outer zones, they could easily get ghosted by dracs or animals. Or radiation, or drones, or landmines, or exposure. Lots of things could kill you in the desert. Everyone knew that. You were never really safe out there, no matter how careful you tried to be. And sometimes you didn't hear from your friends for days, or weeks. That didn't necessarily mean they were dead; sometimes people just dropped off the face of the planet for a while, and maybe they would come back, and maybe they wouldn't. Sometimes people just disappeared.</p><p>When no one ever found their bodies, either drying out in the sun, their eyes being eaten by crows, or in white body bags marked with BLI issued barcodes, people just assumed they were either out there somewhere fucking off, or the dracs had taken them back to the city to be taxidermied and their bodies hung up in the streets as examples. Martyrs.</p><p> </p><p>It was different when the bodies started showing up. Sprawled out in the dust with their guts torn out. Weirdly light, almost shrunken, like the sun was making them evaporate. Even a few corpses of draculoids were found scattered around their campsite, but none of them with blaster holes in them or any of their masks taken off. Killjoys would most times take the masks and burn them, or put them in a mailbox if there was one nearby. These bodies looked like they had been mauled by animals, yet most of their flesh was still intact. Like the animals had ripped open their guts for sport and then gotten bored.</p><p>Of course rumours had started spreading. Some people thought it was mountain lions that had mutated from the radiation near the Peak. Some thought it was a trick arranged by BLI to confuse killjoys. Others again were convinced it was a secret BLI operation gone wrong. People were saying a lot of things.</p><p> </p><p>Poison had told Kobra once, that he'd heard stories about how it didn't use to be like this. How it was different in the zones before they were born, before their parents had been born. That BLI didn't have as many drones flying overhead, disguised as birds, or as much knowledge or interest in what killjoys were up to. Before they realised there were groups forming out here that wanted to take down the city. Kobra was always one for hoping, even if it was nothing more than hoping that it had been better before. That someone had lived a better life than they are now. Maybe it could get better in the future too. But Kobra also knew that Poison was full of shit. Or like, just really fond of stories, and maybe sometimes he had a hard time discerning what was real and what was fantasy. Kobra loved listening to his stories for the most part. They'd spent a lot of sleepless nights huddled together in the same sleeping bag to keep warm in the freezing desert, where Poison would whisper to him in the dark about unplugged robots that came alive and men making deals with the devil in exchange for knowing all the secrets of the universe. It made him less afraid when he could focus on Poison's soothing voice instead of obsessing over the sounds outside that seemed so loud in the dead silence.</p><p>Kobra admired Poison's imagination, he could paint colourful and vivid pictures in Kobra's head, so clear he could almost feel the cool ocean wind on his face and smell the sweet smell of candied apples, even though he had never felt or smelled those things. But sometimes he had to remind himself not to believe in everything Poison told him. He probably didn't mean to say things that weren't true. Kobra got that it was probably more comforting to live in that world, considering the one <em>he</em> lived in was pretty bleak in comparison.</p><p>*</p><p>“I think we should do something,” Poison said suddenly. Poison always thought they should do something. He was staring straight ahead, at the boarded up window on the side of the RV, with a vacant expression. His feet were kicking against the seats acoross the small booth under the table. Kobra noticed he hadn't finished his can of beans.</p><p>“Like what?” Kobra asked. Poison didn't turn to look at him, but his eyes narrowed and a slight crease appeared between his eyebrows as he spoke.</p><p>“Like finding out what the fuck is going <em>on</em>. Something is ghosting killjoys like it's gonna earn 'em a fucking medal, and no one is doing anything about it!” He didn't mention anything about BLI, for once. He'd been raging about it for fucking weeks now, after he'd heard it from a guy they'd met out by the Lake; they'd talked about it all night, seemingly not even noticing when Kobra stopped taking part in the conversation and just sat silently staring into the dying embers of the campfire. After that, Poison had kept trying to convince Kobra that it made sense, how the government were trying to spread seeds of fear and distrust in the desert so the killjoys would become easier to control. Killing a few dracs in the name of confusion and apparent innocence was as big of a concern to Better Living as shaking off a fly that had landed on your arm.</p><p>Kobra was thankful that Poison didn't bring up any of that now. Why he cared so much, Kobra didn't understand; none of them had ever even been to the city, they had no idea what it was like there. Or, well. Poison had been born there, but he said he didn't remember anything. Their parents had taken him out into the zones when he was a baby. So why he clung to the words of some zoner they'd made camp with almost a month ago, was lost to Kobra.</p><p>It didn't even matter if the theory about BLI was true or not, he'd been trying to tell Poison that every time he had brought it up. It wouldn't make any difference; killjoys were still turning up dead. Poison kept frowning at the window as he said, “Someone has to do <em>something</em>, right? We can't just let this keep happening.”</p><p>Kobra agreed. He really did. It had been getting worse over the past few months, more and more people were going out for a supply run or an underground show, and being found dead the next morning. Or sometimes the corpses would lie in the sun for days, and only the smell would alert passersby. It was always broadcast on the radio every time a find was reported. Sometimes the ones that found the corpses would know who they were, and sometimes someone could probably recognize them from the description. Sometimes the bodies would be unrecognizable, decomposing in the blistering heat and torn open in several places where maggots were writhing, like the insides of the body were still alive. Kobra didn't like to listen very closely to those broadcasts. Him and Poison didn't know anyone out here particulary well, beyond recognizing some faces and names. Trusting people in the zones was risky business. Everyone knew that. They'd lived here all their lives, so they knew it better than anyone. So it had just been the two of them for a while. It was safest that way. Kobra didn't need to listen for transmissions describing their friends' clothes clinging to mangled corpses lying behind a dumpster somewhere, because Kobra's only friend was Poison, and him he kept a close enough eye on.</p><p>He did agree, though. He hated that this was happening. He hated that no one was doing anything other than spreading rumors that all seemed just as crazy and just as eerily plausible as the next. But he didn't see how the two of them could do anything. It seemed too big for them. Maybe Poison was right, and it was a ruse by the Scarecrow unit, in which case they were definitely in over their heads. The same thoughts were probably going through the heads of all the zoners they had talked to lately. It had been awful to begin with. Now it was getting paralyzing. Apparently not to Poison, though. Now he was staring determinedly into his beans and picking at them with his fork. Like it was just another normal day.</p><p>When Kobra didn't say say anything, he eventually turned his head to fix him with that look that he always gave people when he hoped that they were not about to disappoint him. “Right?” he said.</p><p>Kobra couldn't help but feel dread crawling up inside his stomach and into the back of his throat, into his mouth. So far, the only thing that had kept them safe and alive was the fact that they would never try to fight if they got into trouble, they would only run away and find somewhere to hide. That was mostly Kobra's idea; Poison was somewhat of a reckless idiot sometimes, but Kobra had talked him, and sometimes dragged him, out of the worst of it. If Poison went out into the desert looking for whatever was killing zoners at night, there was a big possibility of him not coming back. Not that Kobra would ever let him go alone, but he felt like this was nothing short of tempting fate. And he had learned that tempting fate wasn't a very good idea if you were planning on seeing the sun rise in the morning. He didn't care if BLI wanted them to be afraid like Poison said; he <em>was</em> afraid, and being afraid was the reason they'd made it this far. There was good reason for being afraid.</p><p>Kobra just nodded. Poison looked at him with a blank face.</p><p>“Please tell me that you're not just going to sit and watch this shit go down and do <em>nothing</em>, not even <em>try</em>. Like everyone fucking else.”</p><p>Kobra tried to find the right words. He opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to explain. But he knew Poison didn't understand, didn't agree. He had that look in his eyes, that wild, burning look, like Destroya was talking through his mouth, like he would leave Kobra behind if he had to. If he refused to go with him.</p><p>“I don't think we should go out there, Poison,” he tried softly. He knew it probably wouldn't work.</p><p>“Why not?” Poison shot back immediately. He looked at Kobra angrily, like he'd already made up his mind. “There's obviously something going on!”</p><p>He was trying to stare Kobra down, like he would get his point across more effectively if he didn't blink. Kobra was trying his best to stare back, but he felt his eyes starting to burn the longer the thought about the fact that this was probably not a fight he could win.</p><p>“We don't know what we are up against, is all,” he said. “I don't think it's a very good idea.” He tried to ease Poison into the idea that they didn't have a chance in hell of fighting this thing.</p><p>That didn't work on Poison, who just threw his hands in the air and let out an exasperated breath. “People are <em>dying</em>, Kobra!”</p><p>“Yeah, and I don't want that to happen to <em>you</em>!” Kobra said. His throat felt tight and painful and his voice came out angrier than he had meant it to. Poison was all he had. He couldn't fucking lose him. He just couldn't.</p><p>Poison didn't have anything to say to that, apparently. He sat at the table and the silence stretched out between them, he kept staring as if in disbelief. As if that hadn't even been a possibility in his mind. Kobra didn't move; he wanted to go over and wrap his arms around Poison and never let him go, but he felt a bit like his feet were glued to the floor. Poison's face was blank. Then his eyes flickered to the side for just a second, then back to Kobra.</p><p>“Then I won't,” he said.</p><p>*</p><p>So of course, since Poison had this thing about getting his way, and had like, some kind of weird messiah complex and wanted to save the desert, or something, they were packing up their stuff. Preparing as much as they could for whatever the hell it was they were getting themselves into.</p><p>“I think we should go to Dr D first. Maybe he knows something that could help us,” Poison was thinking aloud while he was wrapping the wires of the radio transmitter carefully up in a bundle and putting it into his backpack. “It's a start, at least.”</p><p>There were any number of places they could start; east towards the Peak or south-east into the valley, or even straight west in the direction of the city. The bodies had been appearing all around, it seemed. So, Poison had decided that gathering as much information as they could would be the best place to start. And no one had as much knowledge of the goings on in the zones as Dr Death Defying. Everyone reported to the Tower when they could, and he even had a couple of runners going out to look for people that had stories to tell, but no radio to preach into.</p><p>“The next transmission is supposed to be tomorrow.” Poison said.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kobra answered, with his back to Poison. He tucked the radio into his sleeping bag and rolled it up. Poison stood up and reached up onto the shelves over the kitchen counter.</p><p>“You think we can get there before that?”</p><p>*</p><p>He almost felt relieved once they stepped out onto the sand and the RV disappeared from view. Something resembling determination stirred inside his chest, as he looked over at Poison from time to time, walking in long strides and looking out across the pale hills around them. They were doing this. It wasn't so bad. It felt pretty good, actually. Sitting around and worrying about it had been worse, even if Poison hadn't given him much time to do that. He'd started packing what little they had the morning after he'd first brought it up. Kobra suspected he'd deliberately taken the time to sit down and eat his canned beans first, just to make Kobra happy. He'd probably decided sometime during the night. Or, most likely, he'd already decided before their discussion yesterday had even ended. And there was no way Kobra would let him leave on his own, so that settled that. It hadn't taken long to get everything into their backpacks, it was routine; get your things, pack the stuff you'll least likely need before you make camp on the bottom of your bag, strap your blanket and sleeping bag around the outside of the backpack. Then Poison had handed him a bag of dried crickets, and then they were shutting the door behind them and spraying a big, blue X on it.</p><p>Poison had his goggles on, so Kobra couldn't see his eyes, but his mouth smiled over at him, and Kobra thought he looked, for lack of a better term, excited.</p><p>“What,” Kobra said. He felt a little weird about how easy it was to smile back. The sun was starting to warm up the sand that was crunching under their boots, he could see a few clouds making their way over the mountians in the distance. From behind his sunglasses, the world looked soft and tan and calm.</p><p>Poison turned his head to look straight ahead again, and took a deep breath. “I don't know yet,” he said eventually. Kobra had no idea what that meant. He guessed he would probably get to find out later, when Poison had made up his mind about it.</p><p>After a while, he said, “I think something really big is about to happen.”</p><p>Kobra eyed him. He looked calm. Not like he thought they were about to be ambushed by dracs. “What do you mean,” Kobra tried.</p><p>“I just have a feeling,” Poison said. He looked at Kobra from behind his dark tinted plexiglass lenses. “That we're doing the right thing.”</p><p>*</p><p>They hadn't known exactly how long it would take them to get to the Tower. It was said to be about a day's march from the end of the massive cliff people called the Mother; they'd seen it from a way off, passed what looked like a tall flag pole marking the edge, just when the sun was starting to sink down from its highest point again. That had made Kobra's heart sink. It meant they would have to make camp somewhere for the night and continue in the morning, and maybe if they left early they'd get to the Tower around sunrise.</p><p>They had agreed on this. But that didn't stop the uneasy knot forming in the bottom of Kobra's stomach. As the day went on and they watched the sun drop lower and lower towards the horizon, the cold pit in his gut grew bigger and heavier; he tried not to let it get to him, he didn't want to bring it up and make Poison worry. Walking during the day was fine, they were just moving the same as they always did, running across the sand and watching the sky for any signs of drones or hovercrafts. It was different when the light slowly started to fade and the desert changed into blues and greys and long shadows. They had stopped running at night a few months ago when the number of dead killjoys had started to rise rapidly. That number hadn't stopped rising, and now they were going into parts of the desert they weren't familiar with. They had made their way over to D's old station enough times, but now he'd relocated to a new one, and going out for a casual visit around the zones hadn't exactly been at the top of their bucket list for the past few months. Kobra told himself that they were still close to where they'd left the RV, to parts they knew their way around. They had been staying there for a while, and they had never had any problems. It was nestled between the foot of a hill and a dried out riverbed that killjoys sometimes used as a road, but most people cut off east before they got to where Kobra and Poison had been staying, because the riverbed lead straight north to the Mother beyond that point, and ended in a 500 feet drop.</p><p>Secondly, Kobra told himself, they were close to the Tower. Dr D hadn't mentioned seeing any shadows moving in the night.</p><p>He knew Poison probably worried too. Maybe they should talk about it. But as long as they didn't talk abou it, it was easier to pretend this was just another supply run.</p><p>It was hard to tell how far they had walked. Back where they came from was just the distant mountains seen from a slightly different angle. Kobra looked out into the settling darkness and listened for any sounds as Poison unrolled their sleeping bags between some big rocks. They had been pretty quiet for a while, after they had decided they wouldn't try to walk through the night. The silence wasn't anything unusual; when Poison was thinking really hard about something he tended to tune out everything else. Right now, though, it wasn't on Poison; he'd tried to talk about what kind of noise he would make if he was in a band, but he'd given it up when Kobra didn't respond with the enthusiasm he wanted. Kobra just didn't know what to say. He had too many thoughts spinning in his head but none of them seemed appropriate to voice if he wanted to keep the mood between them somewhat positive. Poison was good at not asking questions when Kobra didn't feel like talking. Instead, he had been humming quietly to himself while they were walking. Now he wasn't anymore. Kobra saw a few faint stars starting to light up above them. The rustling of the sleeping bags stopped.</p><p>“Kobra.”</p><p>Kobra turned around. Poison was sitting with his legs inside his sleeping bag and looking expectantly at him. Kobra sighed. The desert was quiet around them. Still, he felt kind of like the expanding darkness was pulling at him from all sides, stretching him like a rubber band, like he was going to tear apart soon. He went to lie down next to Poison. Poison handed him a dried cricket and Kobra accepted it.</p><p>“Stop worrying so much,” Poison said quietly. He held out his arm and motioned for Kobra to roll in close to him. Kobra chewed on his cricket and let out a noise that was about half sigh, half laugh. “Easy for you to say,” he huffed and lay down with his back to Poison. Poison put his arm around him and settled along his back, breathing steadily on the back of his neck.</p><p>“I won't die,” he said easily into Kobra's hair, all matter-of-fact. “I already told you.”</p><p>Kobra found Poison's hand and locked their fingers together in front of his chest. “You promise?”'</p><p>Poison squeezed his hand. “I promise.”</p><p>“Okay,” Kobra said. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the familiar desert sounds around them, the slight whistling of the wind and whirring of cicadas. It was hard. He still listened for anything out of the ordinary. He held onto Poison's hand.</p><p>“Goodnight,” Poison said softly.</p><p>“Goodnight, P,” Kobra replied. He listened to Poison's breathing getting slower and deeper, and he was still awake even long after Poison had fallen asleep.</p><p>*</p><p>The sun was almost at its midpoint, and they still hadn't reached the Tower. They had started moving again before dawn, but they went slow in the dark, stopping every time they thought they saw something move and being careful not to step into any holes and breaking their ankles.</p><p>“We should stop and catch the transmission,” Poison said as they reached the foot of a steep, rocky hillside.</p><p>Kobra nodded, “Yeah.” It was going to be too hot for walking soon, anyway, so they might as well stop. He held his hand up against the sun and looked up the hill. “We should try to get higher. Maybe we can get a signal from up there.”</p><p>As they climbed the steep hill and sent pebbles and rocks cascading down behind them, the landscape flattened out and widened in all directions. The sun was relentless, and bathing everything below and around them in a bright, golden glow.</p><p>“There,” Poison said and pointed a little further up, towards a cluster of dry bushes. There was a little patch of shadow there, where they could hopefully save the radio from melting.</p><p>When they reached the bushes, Poison shook his backback off of his shoulders and set it down, reaching into it for the radio, while Kobra took a few more minutes to look around. Just to make sure. From up here he could see the valley stretching all the way into Zone 1; old, unkept roads snaking their way through the dust, the long mountain range barely visible in the distance that he knew stood between the zones and the City; on the opposite hillside of the valley he saw a long and flat building that must be the old Zone 2 train station, and just below it, a small, oddly shaped building with what looked like a wonky spear on the roof. It was still a considerable way off, he had to squint his eyes to focus on it, but the sun reflected on the metal of the antenna and made it sparkle like a firework, and Kobra just <em>knew</em>.</p><p>“Poison,” Kobra yelled back towards the bushes. Poison's head appeared above the dry leaves. “Poison, I think we found it.”</p><p>He came running over, his eyes following Kobra's arm to where he was pointing out in the valley. “There, below the train station. With the big, flashy thing. It's gotta be, right?”</p><p>It took Poison a moment to figure out where Kobra was pointing, he put his hand up to his forehead to shade over his eyes and stretched his neck. He considered the valley for a while.</p><p>“It's gonna take us an hour to get there, <em>at least</em>, maybe two,” he said, “I want to stay here and listen to the 'mission first.”</p><p>Kobra felt weird sitting on top of the hill and knowing if he just stood up and looked over the bushes they were sitting under, he would be able to see the Tower. They were so close, but yet so far from getting any answers to what they should do. So far, this could be just another trek across the desert, to find a new place to stay, like they'd done a million times. They had been doing it pretty much ever since Kobra could remember. After their somewhat permanent house on the west side of Zone 2 had been wiped out by Scarecrows, they had decided to keep running on their own. Kobra didn't know if anyone of the few that made it out of that blast were still running. Back then they had decided it would be safer not to try to regroup right away. Poison took him running north. At some point they had lost track of who was still alive, or where they were. Regrouping was harder than they had thought it would be. But they were fine on their own. They had fallen into synch somehow.</p><p>Poison fiddled with the channel wheel on the beat up radio, turning it this way and that and listening intently for any sound of a familiar voice in between the crackling static. His face was furrowed in concentration. Finally, the low-pitched and broken siren crackled through the speakers, and Poison sat back, pleased and excited. The siren sounded for approximately a minute, and then a dark, gravelly voice joined them at the top of the hillside.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Good morning, rats, rollers and runners! My spiffiest greetings to all you little dust angels out there. It's me, Dr D; makin' my way to you on the soundwaves once again. Now, I know it's been a little while since our last chat, but don't you worry, I'm here to keep you alive on this beautiful, radio-active morning! So as long as the static don't boil my blood, I'll be here for the next hour.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jumping straight into the Jack-o-lantern, I hope you've got your boots strapped tightly, 'cus there's been quite a few sightings of Scarecrow units in zones ONE and TWO in the last few days. So if you're crop, you know to avoid those crows...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Poison looked silently at Kobra as they listened to Dr D talk about what had happened since the last broadcast. Some of it they knew, they had heard people talk, but not everything had reached the public's ears. It felt comforting to hear D's voice again. It felt like ages ago since the last broadcast.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>On a lighter note, the Electric Flash Girls are blasting the speakers at the Morgue this Friday, and they want you there. Their new tune “Dead, rotting and SEXY!!!” has made its way all the way into the bat nest, and is shaking the walls at discos in the Lobby. The door at the Morgue is free, as always, but the drinks ain't. And the price to pay for missing out on this bomb drop is eternal and utter shame and regret. So you better make sure you're there. Now I know there's some worryin' goin' on in those parts at night, but no need to scatter like a lazer-blast to a windshield just yet; the Girls will be making sure that no one leaves alone while the sun's sleeping. We've got no hearts to lose. Though, those tender little hearts still needa get pumped with some good, old fashion 'rock-n-roll-juice now and again. These are dangerous times we live in, but don't let that keep your morale down. Remember: we're all fightin' the city's white cries, and we need ya. We need your colours. So stay safe out there.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now, I'm gonna crash right into the first tune I've got for you today, and then I'll take a few calls from you babies in a second. In case anyone <b>hasn't</b> heard this rock-n-roll freeway-threeway, you better listen close right about now, to find out what you'll be missing if you decide not to drag your corpse down to the Morgue this Friday... here's the Electric Flash Girls... –</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The transmission cut to a low, fast rumble of a bassline. Poison bobbed his head along to the music, and Kobra looked out into the pale sand that stretched out beneath the hillside where they were sitting. Maybe they could make a difference. With Dr D's help, it could actually seem like they might have a good chance. It wouldn't stand to just let whatever was happening, keep happening. And even if they couldn't stop it entirely, at least they could try to figure out what was going on. So that more people wouldn't end up dead where they were sorely needed alive.</p><p>They listened to the rest of the broadcast without exchanging a word, in case they would miss anything important. Kobra kept looking around the scenery below them for any movement, Poison kept his eyes trained at the sky. Dr D took a few calls from zoners, their signals were wobbly and one of them cut out unexpectedly; he took their requests for songs and brought along well wishes and messages that so-and-so was alive, and that they would be waiting at this hideout or that, recommendations of safe places to stay and warnings of places that weren't safe anymore.</p><p>When the transmission cut out into static again, Poison looked thoughtful.</p><p>“He didn't say anything about any more 'joys being found. That's a good sign.”</p><p>Sitting in the shade of the small bush and waiting out the worst of the midday sun made Kobra restless and itching to get moving again. It felt wrong to sit around when they knew they were so close to the Tower, but he knew better than to waste water and risk getting knocked out by the heat. He accepted the crickets Poison handed him.</p><p>When Poison finally hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders, Kobra was ready to run. He fell into step with Poison as they made their way down the hillside into the valley, determined and buzzing with a weird, nervous energy.</p><p>“We should go to that show,” Poison said without looking at him. “Maybe someone there knows something.”</p><p>*</p><p>The Tower wasn't exactly a tower. It was what was left of an old diner, with an obviously home made, but pretty impressive antenna fixed on the roof. About half of the building had been blasted out by a bomb a while back, before Dr D had decided to rebuild parts of it and move his station there. The new walls had absolutely no relation to the origianl foundations, and old, checkered tiles were still visible in some places under the dirt, in what was once probably one end of the eating area, but now served as a crude front porch.</p><p>When they got close enough, they could see a tall, lanky figure leaning against the wall out front, in the shadow under the part of the roof sticking out over the entrance.</p><p>“What do we have here?” they called out.</p><p>Kobra recognized the voice as Cherri Cola's, from the radio.</p><p>“We're looking for the doctor,” Poison called, before Kobra could come up with an answer.</p><p>“Well you just missed the radio blast, kiddos,” Cherry said.</p><p>The door behind Cherri creaked open, and Dr D came rolling out in his motorized wheelchair.</p><p>“Who are these rascals?” Dr D adjusted his dark glasses and fixed them with a quizzical look. “Hey. Wait a minute. It's you two,” he said as they stepped up onto the cracked old tiles in front of the house. “You sure stretched out good. What are you doin' here?”</p><p>It had to have been over three years since they'd last met Dr D in person. He still had both of his legs back then. Now his left one seemed to have been replaced by some sort of droid part fromt the knee down. His dark beard had gained a few light grey streaks here and there.</p><p>“We, uh. We need your help. Or, we hoped you might be able to help us.”</p><p>“Come inside,” Dr D said, starting to turn his chair around. “This heat is killing me.”</p><p>They all followed him inside, and Cherri shot a glance out over the desert before closing the door behind them.</p><p>“You in trouble?” Dr D asked as they made their way into the main room. It was dusty and wonky, like everything else in the desert, walls and windows and furniture were in a bunch of different colours that didn't match, made out of different materials and parts probably salvaged from a number of wreckages.</p><p>“Not actively,” Poison said.</p><p>Dr D chuckled a little, and rolled over to a small table. It held two ceramic mugs, one was cracked; both held a small amount of a dark liquid that Kobra guessed was coffee. The checkered pattern of the table was old and faded. Poison pulled up a stool, and Kobra sat on a wooden box next to him, so they were both facing Dr D, who was watching them from behind his dark sunglasses that he was still wearing. Behind him, leaning against the wall on the other end of the room, stood Cherri, watching them with their arms crossed over their chest. Next to them was a horse-shoe formation of three tables, all holding a bunch of radio equipment, and wires, buttons, papers, and old-world music records. Kobra noticed Poison eyeing it interestedly, but he turned his attention back to Dr D when he spoke again.</p><p>“Okay. Spill.”</p><p>*</p><p>In addition to Cherri Cola, Dr D had another guest at his station; a tall, muscley guy with an eye patch and long, curly hair tied up in a bun. He was entering and leaving the room periodically, pattering around with the radio equipment on the tables, turning this and that and poking at some buttons while humming to himself, but didn't seem to mind the conversation that was happening in the other end of the room. Dr D hadn't asked him to leave, so if D trusted him, Kobra trusted D's judgement.</p><p>D looked silently between Kobra and Poison after they had told him about their plan. Well, their very thin skeleton of a plan. Their idea, basically. Kobra was just waiting for him to tell them the whole thing was ridiculous and would never go over well.</p><p>“It's about time someone took this into their own hands,” D said finally. Poison's eyes shone like LED billboards in the dead of night.</p><p>“It's been going on for far too long,” D sighed. “What do you need? I'm not gonna leave my station, but I want to help in any way I can.”</p><p>Poison leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and splayed his hands out in front of him. “Well, most of all, we need information,” he said. “Since we really have no idea what we're looking for.”</p><p>Kobra didn't understand how he could sound so sure and confident while admitting that they knew nothing. Poison kept going.</p><p>“– Anything we can gather. Maybe someone's seen something? All we've heard so far's rumors, but... it seems way too organized to be animals, if you ask me.”</p><p>Dr D nodded slowly. “I agree.” He looked grim.</p><p>“Have you seen anything?” Kobra hadn't really meant to say it, but it still came out. He had been burning to ask Dr D that ever since he first laid eyes on the Tower. D shifted his eyes over to look at him, considering him for a moment. Then he frowned and looked away again.</p><p>“Nothing alive, anyway.”</p><p>Kobra wasn't really sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. Probably a bit of both. It probably meant that whatever was out there, didn't come too close to the old diner.</p><p>“So... What do you think this is?”</p><p>“Honestly, I think my guess is as good as yours,” D said, rubbing his eyes behind his sunglasses. “The only similarity between the cases I've really picked up on is that they were alone, or in small groups. Never seen more than three bodies in any close proximity to each other. So it's probably going after targets that are easy to overpower. Oh, and the fact that they're fucking gruesome. Thats's the second tie between all of them.”</p><p>Dr D leaned back in his chair. His mouth twitched under his dark beard. Kobra felt something cold creep up from his stomach and into his throat, making it tight and uncomfortable. He tried to swallow it back down. Him and Poison had never seen any of the bodies. They had heard about them, from people they met that had seen them first hand, or knew someone that had, or from Dr D over the radio. But never with their own eyes. Kobra wasn't sure how Poison felt about it, but he himself felt almost like it wasn't real, like it was all just a dream, or a wandering story being passed around. From what people had described to him, he wasn't very keen on seeing it for himself. But he knew that he probably couldn't avoid it forever. The probability of encountering someone's corpse, torn open and mauled and left in the sand to rot, was only increasing as they set out to find the cause. He wasn't sure if he was ready. Even though he didn't really have a choice.</p><p>“Do they move them at all?” Poison asked next to him, pulling him back to the dusty room. “Like, do they drag the bodies to a different location?”</p><p>Dr D exhaled slowly, thinking it over, and frowning deeply. “Not that I know of.”</p><p>Poison nodded and bit his lip. “Okay, so. It's not mountain lions getting food for their cubs or anything.”</p><p>“I thought you already said you don't think it's animals,” Dr D shot back. Poison looked uncomfortable, not meeting anyone's eyes. Dr D sighed. “I highly doubt it.”</p><p>“Well, like you said,” Kobra looked over at Poison, who turned his head towards him when he spoke. “Somebody must have seen something. Footprints, or animal tracks, or whatever it is. Something. They've obviously been there, they can't just vanish without a trace. Right?”</p><p>Poison nodded at him with an unreadable expression, but didn't say anything. It made Kobra uneasy when Poison did that, closed off his feelings like that. There was a silence.</p><p>“Alright. Well,” Dr D said eventually. “I'll put out some feelers. You're welcome to stay here in the meantime.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Kobra said and tried to smile.</p><p>From across the room, a voice piped up. “What about lucky?”</p><p>Kobra looked over. The guy with the curly hair was sat at Dr D's desk, bent over the radio equipment with his back to them, but was looking over his shoulder at them.</p><p>“You mean Lucky Charm?” Dr D gave him a rasied eyebrow. Tech guy nodded. “Mhm.”</p><p>Dr D shook his head.</p><p>“What's that?” Poison asked, looking between the two of them.</p><p>“A reckless punk,” Dr D said, but the tech guy spoke at the same time; “A killjoy.”</p><p>He went on, “There's supposedly an old archive somewhere out in zone five. You know, with old newspapers, and broadcasts, pictures, and stuff like that. This guy nicked a bunch of drives out of Bat City a few years ago, and they still haven't gone out to look for him. They might not even know the files are gone, I don't know. Maybe they don't give a shit. Might not be anything important. But it could be.”</p><p>Kobra stared at him.</p><p>“He's been keeping to himself for the most part, since that,” Tech guy added. “Haven't really heard from him in a while, but as far as I know, he's still kicking.”</p><p>Poison nodded. “I think we should go,” he said determinedly. Kobra looked doubtfully between him and eye-patch-guy.</p><p>“Zone five is pretty big, though. Do you know where he's staying?”</p><p>The guy made a face, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his eyebrows. “We can try to get in touch and see if he'll give us the co-ords.”</p><p>Kobra looked over to Dr D. “Isn't there a drac outpost by the edge of Five? Is that safe?”</p><p>Dr D let out a small, humorless laugh. “Safe is probably an overstatement. Nowhere is <em>safe</em>. But there are roads you could take where you're less likely to be spotted. If you're careful.”</p><p>Poison was nodding the whole time, looking between the three of them with a slight frown on his face. Tech guy spoke again.</p><p>“The outpost is north-east of the city, so if you take the south-east route through the plains, closer to Road Angeles, you should be fine. There's also a pass closer to the outpost that you could take; it used to be a supply route for killjoys, but I don't think anyone are still operating through there. I reckon if you go there, you're on your own.”</p><p>Kobra thought grimly that they would be on their own no matter what route they took.</p><p>“Besides, the radiation out there isn't as bad as they'll have you believe. There's a bunch of trees and shit.” Tech guy's one visible eye gave Kobra a look of extraordinary optimism.</p><p>*</p><p>Waiting around for calls to come in to the Tower turned out to be pretty uneventful most of the time. Poison had adopted a pencil that he'd found at the bottom of a box in the room behind the kitchen, which he was ecstatic about, since he'd used up his last one several weeks ago; he was drawing constantly on any surface that would take graphite. Kobra was kind of glad of it too, because it meant Poison was hanging over Kobra's shoulder considerably less as a result. He didn't have anything to hide from Poison neccessarily, but he felt strange about living with someone else. It had been just the two of them for so long, and now that they had company, Kobra felt weird about it. The longer they stayed with D and Cherri and tech-guy (Jet Star, Kobra had come to learn his name was), the more Kobra noticed how much he appreciated the small breaks from hanging around Poison. But he was also very aware that the person he trusted the most was still his brother. Even though he trusted Dr D, and therefore trusted the people he chose to keep around, Kobra couldn't help but feel, for lack of a better term, confused. Working as a team was something him and Poison had gotten really good at over the years. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses and hang ups and sleep schedules. Having to rely on anyone else was unfamilar. Kobra wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought Poison was acting different too, just slightly, whenever there was someone else in the room with the two of them. A little more guarded and held-back. And he spent a lot of time alone out on the big rock behind the diner, with his sketchbook propped on his lap.</p><p>Dr Death Defying liked hanging out at the back of the diner by himself most of the time, with a fading yellow parasol shading him from the sun, a magazine and a long-dead soda in hand. He was different than Kobra remembered; more serious, and with deeper lines on his face. He didn't talk about what had happened to his leg. He held his radio show with uneven frequency; scheduling a set time was a sure fire way of getting the signal caught and traced before they could get the blocks up and working. Now the shows were broadcasted about once a week. Kobra hated the waiting. Sometimes D took what seemed to be private calls, that no one but Cherri Cola were allowed to be around for. Cherri came and went a lot, running errands, and was often gone for days at a time, D told Kobra. They were working with a nearby network of zoners, keeping the supply route that ran along the old train track running, and sometimes Cherri brought back novelties like instant noodle spice packets, music, and Dr D's magazines. They had dropped in two days ago with a small figure of a hyena, and a stack of clean, bleached paper. The paper had earned them a very excited, and frankly too long hug from Poison.</p><p>Kobra spent most of his dead time sitting next to Jet Star and watching him work. Most of the time when he wasn't out on some errand or other, Jet was bent over Dr D's recording station, that was littered with a million different buttons and little screens on it, in addition to the old computer that sat on the left side of the desk. At first the two of them sat mostly in silence, but Kobra soon started asking him a few questions about what this button did or what that dial was for. Jet did his best to answer, Kobra suspected he did it mostly for the conversation. That was okay.</p><p>“Well, the tech took some damage when D had to move it out of the old station,” Jet explained, turning some small wheels this way and that along the edge of what Kobra had gathered was some sort of transmitter masterboard. “So I'm mostly just making sure everything's working the way it should. Nothing special. The new software is a little newer than the actual tech, so. I have to make a few adjustments here and there.”</p><p>Kobra was kind of really impressed. He had no idea how any of that stuff worked. He could operate the small radio that he and Poison had, and he thought he could probably fix it if he had to, depending on what was broken, but beyond knowing he had to get a clear signal to get the broadcast to play from the speakers, he didn't have much. He was trying to pry everything he could out of Jet Star, even though he didn't always understand what he was talking about.</p><p>“What does that mean, exactly? The software. Doesn't it fit?”</p><p>Jet turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth.</p><p>“It just means that this keyboard is an older model, and the copy of the program that we got is a newer version. They're not automatically compatible. Plus, it's made for the systems in the city, so we're not exactly sure how it's gonna behave with this tech.”</p><p>Kobra was surprised at that. “It's made in the city?”</p><p>“Well, yeah.”</p><p>“Can't they trace that? The signal?”</p><p>“Heh. No. They <em>could</em>, probably, if we had the original, but this is a copy.” Jet sat back in his chair and made a face. “A modified copy. I've cut all the parts of the code that would send any info capsules to the city directly.”</p><p>Kobra nodded. “So... it's safe. Right?”</p><p>Jet nodded and made an affirmative noise. “Oh yeah. The code is safe.”</p><p>“Can people in the city pick up the signal? Like, can regular people listen to the broadcasts, if they wanted to?”</p><p>Jet shook his head. “No. But we're working on that. I'm trying to make some sort of automatic shut down mechanism, if anyone from a certain part of the city is on the channel. Mainly headquarters. Or maybe only making it available in certain regions, or something. I'm not sure what the best solution is yet. We want it to be able to reach as many as possible, but, if we're letting the signal go into the city, the chances of BLI picking it up will skyrocket.”</p><p>“Is that what happened before?”</p><p>Jet tilted his head to the side. “Yeah.” He clicked his tounge. “Uhm. Yeah. Probably.”</p><p>Kobra figured he should change the subject.</p><p>“Where'd you learn all this?”</p><p>Jet sighed, not looking at Kobra. “You know, I really need to get this work done.”</p><p>Kobra understood what that meant. “Of couse.” He got to his feet and made to leave, but when he was almost at the door, Jet spoke.</p><p>“Do you want to target shoot later? When I'm done with this... My aim's a little rusty, I could use the practice.”</p><p>Kobra looked back at him. He didn't look upset. Kobra hoped that was true, and that he wasn't just really good at hiding it. “Um,” he hesitated. “I don't have gun.”</p><p>“<em>What?</em>” Jet looked at him, alarmed. “You don't have a <em>gun</em>?”</p><p>Kobra tried his best to look steadily back at him. He shook his head. “No.”</p><p>“Do you have enough carbons for a new one? We could get to a vending machine or something on our next supply run.”</p><p>Kobra shrugged. “Wouldn't be much of a point if I don't know how to use it.”</p><p>Jet stared at him. “You're kidding me, right?” He did not look amused in the slightest, but like he was waiting for it to be a very unfunny joke.</p><p>Kobra just shook his head and tried not to let his cheeks heat up.</p><p>Jet leapt suddenly to his feet and stormed towards Kobra, then past him, and slamming open the door into the kitchen. Kobra wasn't sure if he should follow him or not. Then he heard Jet's voice from the next room, practically shouting.</p><p>“<em>Were you just going to let them go out there without knowing how to fire a fucking gun?!”</em></p><p>Kobra realised he'd never heard Jet swear before. He jumped off his stool and walked timidly over to the doorway, peering around the corner to get a look over the scene. Jet was standing in the middle of the room, staring accusingly at Dr D, and Dr D was looking confusedly over at Poison across the table.</p><p>“You don't?” he asked.</p><p>Poisons eyes darted past Jet and landed on Kobra for a second, before going back to Dr D, and down onto the stack of papers on the table in front of him.</p><p>“I don't,” he said quietly. “I don't need to.” His tone was low and defensive. As he looked up to meet Dr D's eyes steadily, he lifted his chin a little.</p><p>D stared at him with a raised eyebrow. Poison looked defiantly back at him, sitting up a little straighter on his chair.</p><p>“I've managed just fine so far, haven't I?”</p><p>Dr D snorted and rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Spare me the speech, please. Look, I'm not askin' you ta start solvin' all your problems with a blaster,” he said and jerked his head towards Jet. “But the man has a point. Knowing how to fire one doesn't exactly hurt. Especially where you're going.”</p><p>Poison looked like the was reluctantly thinking it over, his jaw set in a hard line and his eyes boring into the table. He shifted his eyes up to look at Kobra, asking him silently for his opinion. Kobra nodded at him. Poison turned back to Dr D.</p><p>“Alright. Who's gonna teach us?”</p><p>“Ask Cola when they get back.” Dr D said. “They're the best shot in probably all of Zone Three.”</p><p>“That's gonna be days from now. I'll do it,” Jet interjected. “I'm pretty much done with the radio anyway.”</p><p>Dr D nodded, and that settled it.</p><p>*</p><p>Poison placed the gun in his hand. It was painted bright red, <em>to match his jacket</em>, Poison had explained, and Kobra saw that Poison's gun was painted in the same fashion, bright yellow to match his mask. It was heavier than Kobra expected it to be, he turned it over in his hand and gripped the handle, feeling it out.</p><p>They'd driven a way off in Jet's car. Where exactly, Kobra wasn't sure. He didn't see anything in particular, just sand and rocks.</p><p>“Alright,” Jet said, standing with his hands placed firmly on his hips. The sun hit him in the face, and he was squinting a little bit even behind his dark glasses. “Let's get to work.”</p><p>He showed Kobra first. He'd lined up the empty cans on different rocks, with a fair amount of distance between each of them. He gently shook Kobra's arm, standing close behind him and showing him how to hold the gun.</p><p>“You gotta loosen up your elbows, see? If you shoot with 'em like this,” he demonstrated by holding out his own arm, “Your shoulder is gonna get real sore, real quick. The kickback's gonna be harder than you think it'll be.”</p><p>Kobra shifted a little on his feet, and repositioned himself, his left hand steadying his gun-hand as he pointed it at the cans. They were blinking in the sunlight.</p><p>The first zap of the gun was like the crack of lightning splitting a tree down the middle, really fucking loud and making Kobra jump, even though he has been the one to pull the trigger. All the cans were still standing quietly on their rocks.</p><p>“Relax your shoulders, you're gonna be fine,” Jet said encouragingly. “And try not to <em>pull</em> the trigger, so much as <em>squeeze</em> it.”</p><p>Kobra shook himself, repositioning his feet to stand steady on the sand, and aimed again. And missed again. And again. And again. And he kept missing most of the afternoon. It was making him increasingly frustrated, how he just couldn't figure it out, but he saw that Poison wasn't hitting any of the targets either, and that made him feel a little bit better. It was good to know he wasn't the only one who sucked at this. He slowly got used to the sound of the blasts; not so much to the kickback. The soda cans sat on their respective rocks, as pristine as ever.</p><p>It was getting late when Kobra finally hit one and made it fly back across the sand.</p><p>“Holy shit!” Poison grinned at him. “You did it!” Kobra let Poison wrap him up in a hug.</p><p>“I think this is a good time to say we're done for the day,” Jet said, and rested a sure hand on Kobra's shoulder. “Well done.”</p><p>Poison wanted to protest, but Jet stopped him. “It's getting dark, we should head back.”</p><p>Kobra was slightly shell shocked, but proud. He had hit his first target.</p><p>Something told him it wouldn't be his last.</p>
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